FRANK  CiHAFFE 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


TO   JACK, 


IDLE  VERSES 

IDLY  WRIT 


FRANK  CHAFFEE. 


NEW  YORK 

GEO.  M.  ALLEN  &  CO. 
g4  FIFTH  AVENUE 


Copyright,  1891 
By  Geo.  M.  Allen  &  Co. 


Verses  writ  in  idle  moment, 
Airiest  of  airy  rhyme, 

Just  the  ammunition  spended 
By  a  fellow  killing  time. 


62S013 


CONTENTS 


My  Neighbor,            .......  i 

The  Way  o'  the  World,            .           .           .           .           .  2 

The  Golden  Rod  Maid,       ......  4 

Edith's  Guitar,    .......  5 

Amor,    .........  6 

Miserere,    ........  8 

Memories,        .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .9 

Au  Revoir,            .......  10 

Straying,         ........  n 

Katrine,      ........  13 

Bon  Appetit,    ........  15 

The  Daisy  Chain,          ......  16 

Marionne,        ........  17 

My  Rose,    ........  18 

Dreams,           ........  19 

Little  Miss  Muffet,          ......  22 

Katy-Did,        ........  23 

Sleep,          ........  24 

In  an  Autograph  Book,      .  .  .  .  .  -25 

Violette,      .           .  26 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Spring  Dawn,             .... 

•        27 

A  Calendar,         ..... 

28 

Tempora  Mutantur, 

.        29 

Hope,           ...... 

30 

Tantalus,         ..... 

•        31 

Kate,           .           .       '    . 

32 

A  Rose  in  a  Florist's  Window,     . 

•       33 

With  a  Tea  Cup,             .... 

34 

Diane,    ...... 

•       35 

Baby  Marian,       ..... 

36 

Bien  Chaussee,          .... 

•       37 

Dreaming,             ..... 

39 

Blossom  Time,           .... 

.       40 

Requiescat,           ..... 

42 

Lenten  Bells,              .... 

•       43 

All  the  Year,        

45 

Mabel's  Muff, 

.       46 

Selena,        ...... 

49 

A  Summer  Fancy,    .... 

.       51 

The  Song  of  the  Wind, 

53 

Foot  Notes,      ..... 

•       54 

Truth,         ...... 

55 

CONTENTS 


PAGE 
56 
With  a  Pair  of  Gloves, 

The  Golden  Rule, 

59 
My  Florist's  Bill, 

62 
Star  Gazing, 

64 
A  Summer  Afternoon, 

65 
Benedictine, 

67 
Only  One  Day, 

69 
Golden  Rod, 

7° 

Nowadays, 

To .  •  •  •  ' 


MY  NEIGHBOR 

"  Love  your  neighbor  as  yourself," 
'Tis  so  the  prayer-book  teaches, 
But  far  beyond  the  prayer-book  rule 
My  longing  heart  outreaches. 

So  far  above  all  other  fair, 
My  neighbor  she  outreaches, 

To  make  her  mine  I  study  hard 
At  every  wile  Love  teaches. 

If  she  were  but  a  prayerful  maid, 
And  did  what  prayer-book  teaches, 

My  life  such  rapture  then  would  know 
As  not  e'en  heaven  outreaches. 


THE  WAY  O'   THE  WORLD. 

There  was  a  laddie  loved  a  lass, 
Said  she,  "  I'll  none  of  you," 

And  the  laddie  sorrowed  sadly 

For  he  thought  her  word  was  true  ; 

'  Till  the  lassie  said,  "  Oh  laddie 
No  lass  first  speaks  her  mind, 

For  we  are  made  of  many  moods, 
You'll  to  your  sorrow  find  ; 

Just  come  along  to-morrow,  lad, 

And  see  what  I  will  say, 
Perhaps  my  answer  then  may  be 

A  yes  instead  of  nay — " 


THE  WA  Y  O'  THE  WORLD 


And  so  he  came  again  and  wooed, 

Begged  her  to  be  his  bride  ; 
The  lass  of  course  consented 

And  the  nuptial  knot  was  tied. 

Not  many  moon's  had  passed  o'er  them 
E'er  the  luckless  lad  did  find, 

Far  luckier  had  he  been  indeed, 
Had  the  lass  ne'er  changed  her  mind. 


THE  GOLDEN   ROD  MAID 

A  maid  with  golden  rod  in  her  hair, 
While  my  heart  at  her  feet  is  lying, 

The  year,  so  fair  in  the  Autumn  air, 
I  forget  that  its  days  are  dying. 

On  her  breast  a  knot  of  the  golden  flower, 

And  I,  for  her  love  a'sighing, 
I  would  that  my  heart  was  for  but  an  hour 

Next  her  heart,  so  gladly  dying. 


EDITH'S  GUITAR 

By  the  soft  caress  of  her  ringers  fair 
She  wakens  the  strings  unto  music  rare  ; 
Sweet  as  the  waves  by  the  zephyrs  kissed, 
It  follows  the  turn  of  her  snowy  wrist. 

In  the  rosewood  case  that  is  dusk  with  age 
Sleep  haunting  notes,  that  might  charm  a  sage 
And  I  envy  the  ribbon  of  dainty  blue, 
That  holds  it  close  to  her  heart  so  true. 

Great  slumberous  eyes  hath  my  lady  fair, 
And  a  forehead  white  under  midnight  hair  ; 
Hath  a  beautiful  damsel  of  sunny  Spain, 
From  the  olden  days,  come  back  again? 

Ah,  no  !    'Tis  a  jewel  of  greater  worth, 
This  peerless  product  of  all  the  earth  ; 
Fair  as  a  flower,  a  gem,  a  star, 
This  girl  of  my  heart,  with  the  light  guitar. 


AMOR. 

Dainty  Cupid  rambles, 
Well  sunburned  and  hale, 

With  his  bow  and  arrows 
O'er  hill  and  dale. 

Finds  a  guileless  maiden 

Up  among  the  hills, 
Sends  an  arrow  whistling, 

Her  heart  strange  rapture  fills. 

Then  away  to  seaside, 
There  a  dashing  youth, 

'Neath  his  waistcoat  feels  a  pang- 
Cupid's  dart  in  truth. 


AMOR. 

Oh,  the  cunning  mischief, 
Causing  many  a  strife  ; 

Yet  bringing  to  us  sometime 
The  brightest  joy  of  life. 

Frown  we  at  his  naughty  wiles, 
Love  him  all  the  same, 

Long  life  to  dainty  Cupid, 
Successful  be  his  game. 


MISERERE 

The  sea  is  cold,  and  the  sky  is  drear, 
And  the  clouds  in  the  wind  are  scurrying, 

On  the  waves  chill  breast  lifted  o'er  foamy  crest, 
A  boat  to  its  doom  is  hurrying. 


The  clear  sky  smiles  o'er  the  waters  blue, 
And  the  gulls  at  their  sport  are  flying, 

But  the  boat  is  gone,  and  the  waves  make  moan 
O'er  a  form  on  the  grey  sand  lying. 


MEMORIES 

O'er  summer  sand, 

O'er  summer  sea, 
Blows  the  light  wind  glad  and  free, 

Of  other  days, 

And  other  ways, 
Memories  sweet  it  wafts  to  me. 

Oh  !  days  so  sweet, 
On  time's  winged  feet, 

Ye  flew  so  quickly  past  recall, 
I  now  but  dream, 
Of  days  that  seem 

The  only  days  I've  lived  at  all. 


AU  REVOIR 

Glad  summer  time  is  waning — 

The  golden  rod  is  here, 
And  purple  asters  springing 

Fringe  roadside  far  and  near. 

The  distant  hills  gleam  nearer, 
Seen  through  the  clearing  air, 

The  fruit  trees'  ripening  clusters 
Hang  rich  in  the  sunshine  fair. 

The  song  of  the  farmer,  reaping, 
The  fall  of  the  golden  grain, 

And  birds  making  ready  for  flitting 
Away  to  the  South  again. 

And  soon  the  autumn  breezes 

Will  send  down  the  leaves  in  showers, 
Then  farewell  'till  another  summer 

To  sunshine  and  birds  and  flowers. 


STRAYING 

A  tiny  maid  with  shepherd's  crook, 

In  Arcadee  a'maying; 
Cupid  met,  eyes  full  of  tears, 

His  dimpled  feet  a 'straying. 

"I  fear  me  much  I've  lost  my  way," 
He  cries  in  deepest  grief  ; 

"My  feet  are  torn,  my  heart  is  sad, 
I  pray  you  lend  relief." 

And  so  the  maid  binds  up  his  feet 
In  leaves  of  healing  balm  : 

She  led  him  safely  through  the  wood, 
And  soothed  his  sad  alarm. 


STRA  YING 


Then  bid  they  each  a  sweet  farewell, 

When  what  does  Cupid  do 
But  draw  an  arrow  in  his  bow 

And  pierce  the  maid's  heart  through. 

Alas,  sweet  maid,  in  Arcadee 

No  more  you  go  a'maying, 
But  sadly  wander  far  and  near, 

To  seek  your  love  a  'straying. 


KATRINE 

I  long  for  a  day 

That  will  come,  Katrine, 
When  the  sky  will  be  blue 

And  the  grass  so  green, 
And  everywhere  flowers 
a'springing. 

When  that  day  shall  come, 
That  glad  day,  Katrine, 

I'll  tell  you,  my  love  ; 
And  you'll  listen,  I  ween, 

To  the  song  that  my  heart  is 
a'singing. 


KA  TRINE 

Then  your  fair  hand  in  mine 

I  will  clasp,  Katrine, 
To  have  and  to  hold 

For  alway,  Katrine, 
While  the  bells  for  us  sweet  are 
a'ringing. 


BON  APPETIT 

"Bon  appetit,"  she  laughing  cried, 
And  deftly  laid  the  dishes. 

I  looked,  the  fairest  dish  of  all, 
Was  laden  well  with  kisses. 

"Bon  appetit,"  again  she  cried, 
This  charmingest  of  misses  ; 

And  then  upheld  her  rosy  lips, 
Most  dainty  dish  of  kisses. 

"Bon  appetit,"  oh  !  sweetest  maid, 
Thus  grant  my  wildest  wishes  ; 

What  need  to  ask  "bon  appetit" 
For  this  the  dish  of  dishes. 


THE   DAISY  CHAIN 

A  pretty  maid  weaving  a  daisy  chain, 

A  gay  little  lover  near  ; 
The  sunbeams  fall  on  the  dainty  twain, 

And  breezes  blow  soft  and  clear. 

The  gay  little  lover  takes  pretty  maid's  hand, 
Each  dimple  to  close  with  a  kiss ; 

The  daisy  chain  round  them  its  floral  band, 
Complete  is  their  dream  of  bliss. 

Then  gayly  away  to  Arcadee, 

The  land  of  eternal  bloom, 
Where  love  may  live  for  a  year  and  a  day, 

In  the  light  of  an  ever  new  moon. 


MARIONNE 

With  your  eyes  so  heavenly  blue 
And  your  sweet  smile  kind  and  true, 
Who  could  help  pay  tribute  to  you, 
Sweet  maid,  Marionne. 

Winsome,  gracious  Marionne, 
All  thy  charming  ways  before  me, 
Make  me  live  but  to  adore  thee, 
Sweet  maid,  Marionne. 

Pure,  unselfish  Marionne, 
Wise  and  goodly  all  thy  ways, 
Brightening  our  darkest  days, 
Sweet  maid,  Marionne. 

Fairest  maid,  kind  fate  attend  thee, 

God  his  richest  blessings  send  thee, 

Heaven  its  brightness  ever  lend  thee, 

Sweet  maid,  Marionne. 


MY  ROSE 

I  gave  a  rose  in  blossomtime, 

A  rose  of  fragrant  burden, 
Unto  a  friend  who  cherished  it, 

As  true  love's  royal  guerdon. 

He  sailed  away  across  the  sea 
This  friend  my  heart  so  cherished, 

He  journeyed  far  for  many  a  day, 
Till  love  and  rose  had  perished. 

My  love  will  come  no  more  to  me, 
My  rose  again  bloom  never, 

And  still,  both  love  and  fragrant  rose, 
Will  be  my  own  forever. 


DREAMS 

In  a  great  soft  lounging  chair 
Dreams  are  mine,  so  blissful,  fair, 
By  the  dim  light  amber  shaded, 
Tenderest  dreams  are  gently  aided, 
Dreams  of  you. 

And  I  puff  great  fragrant  clouds, 
Whose  subtle,  soothing,  perfumed  shroud, 
Wraps  my  thoughts  in  slumb'rous  measure, 
Bringing  dreams  of  dearest  pleasure, 
Dreams  of  you. 

Through  the  smoke  of  cigarette 
Shine  your  dark  eyes  tear  drop  wet, 
As  when  last  you  left  me  sadly, 
Till  I  wish,  alas  !  so  madly 
Dreams  were  real. 


DREAMS 

Thus  I  dream  away  the  hour, 
Picturing  the  passion  flower 
Rioting  in  purple  gladness, 
Do  its  drowsing  fumes  bring  sadness 
To  your  dreams  ? 

And  I  wonder  if  you're  swinging, 
Tropic  flowers  about  you  springing, 
In  your  hammock  'neath  the  trees 
While  the  winds  waft  o'er  blue  seas, 
Thoughts  of  me. 

I  dream  from  that  far  sunny  land, 
You  come  to  me  and  lay  your  hand 
Upon  my  head  and  whisper  soft 
In  that  dear  voice  I've  heard  so  oft 
In  dreams  of  you. 

And  your  great  eyes'  mystic  splendor 
Glows  about  me,  weirdly  tender, 


DREAMS 

As  I  drowse  in  lounging  chair 
Broidered  by  your  hands  so  fair, 
And  dream  of  you. 

Blissful  dreams  are  gently  aided 
By  amber  lamp  so  softly  shaded, 
While  I  think  with  longing,  sadly, 
How  I'd  clasp  you  rapturous,  madly, 
Were  dreams  but  real. 


LITTLE   MISS  MUFFET 

Little  Miss  Muffet  from  Fain^land, 
Sits  weaving  garlands  with  skillful  hand, 
Each  blossom  pierced  with  Cupid's  dart, 
Alack-a-day  is  a  lover's  heart. 

The  peach  blows  petal  dulls  in  compare 
With  the  velvety  glow  on  her  cheek  so  fair, 
And  her  hair  with  the  gleam  of  the  sun  o'  the  morn 
Is  golden,  and  soft  as  the  silk  o'  the  corn. 

The  little  lady  is  witty  and  wise, 
She  looks  on  the  world  through  laughing  eyes, 
And  she  gathers  the  hearts  with  a  sweet  laugh  low, 
As  the  lovers  come,  then  heart-reft  go ; 

For  little  Miss  Muffet  is  so  fair  to  see, 

That  none  may  come  nigh  her,  and  go  heart  free. 

'Tis  the  story  old  since  the  world  began, 

The  candle  and  moth,  the  maid  and  the  man. 


KATY-DID 

"  Katy  did,"  from  tree  top  high, 

"  Katy  didn't,"  from  hedgerow  nigh, 

What  is  the  message  you  fain  would  tell, 

With  the  "did"  and  the  "didn't,"  you  utter  so  well. 

Oh  !  Katy  you  did,  I  am  sure  that  you  did, 
Though  you  thought  the  darkness  your  naughtiness  hid 
But  the  talking  insect  that  sits  up  aloft, 
Saw  you  kiss  Jack,  and  is  telling  it  oft. 

While  his  green-gowned  mate  in  a  neighboring  tree, 
Being  perverse  as  her  sex  always  be, 
Insists  that  you  "  didn't  "  kiss  Jack  at  all, 
And,  "Katy  didn't,"  she  loudly  does  call. 


"  Katy  did  "  'tis  truth  I  wot, 
"  Katy  didn't?"  surely  not, 
Insect  sing  and  mate  sing  back, 
A  straw  I  care  not,  for  Fm  Jack. 


SLEEP 

Poppies  I  bring  in  heaping  measure, 
Wreathed  in  garlands  of  golden  sleep, 
Flora's  choicest  treasure  of  treasure, 
Mem 'ries  dear  a 'fresh  to  keep. 

Drowsing  petals  o'er  eyelids  cast, 
While  fancy  with  magic  finger 
Touches  to  life  the  days  that  are  past, 
And  mem 'ries  come  and  linger. 

Why  should  we  wake  to  pain  and  weeping, 
When  gently  lulled  by  this  flower  blest  ? 
We  may  voyage  fair  o'er  the  sea  of  sleeping 
Afar  to  the  land  of  peace  and  rest. 


IN  AN  AUTOGRAPH   BOOK 

I  pray  you  friend  make  dear  this  book, 

By  writing  here  a  line, 
Some  clever  bit  from  other  bard, 

Or  cleverer  thought  of  thine, 

Or  if  perchance  your  talent  lies 

With  brush,  instead  of  pen, 
Then  fix  your  fancy  on  my  page, 

To  which  I'll  turn  me  when 

Life's  wheels  turn  round  most  drearily, 
And  I'd  court  pleasant  thought. 

Again,  if  you've  no  line  to  write, 
No  sketch  in  mind  have  brought, 

At  least  you'll  here  inscribe  your  name, 
Which,  when  my  eye  has  caught, 

'Twill  gleam  like  strand  of  golden  thread 
In  friendships's  web  fine  wrought. 


VIOLETTE 

Oh  !  maiden  fair 

With  midnight  hair 

And  eyes  that  my  heart  do  fret, 

Your  name  doth  suit  you  Violette, 

For  none  do  you  care, 

With  your  indolent  air, 

My  lady  Violette. 

Your  satins  and  lace 

And  your  flower-like  face, 

The  patter  of  your  feet  upon  the  floor, 

Think  you,  of  the  hearts  that  you  adore  ? 
Give  one  moment,  sweet, 
To  the  lover  at  your  feet, 
My  lady  Violette. 


SPRING  DAWN 

The  east  is  aglow  with  the  light  o'  morn 

That  shows  all  the  earth  so  fair, 
'Tis  the  birth  of  the  day  and  Spring's  own  dawn, 

And  sweetness  is  everywhere. 

The  only  sound  that  is  heard  in  the  land 

Is  a  bird  its  matins  singing, 
The  flowering  boughs  on  every  hand 

Are  decked  with  dewdrops  clinging. 


A   CALENDAR 

The  green  grass  springing,  the  birds  a'singing, 

The  brooks  set  free,  dash  on  in  glee, 
Sweet  blossoms  fair,  scent  all  the  air, 

And  Earth  doth  sing,  'Tis  Spring. 

The  sun  hangs  high  in  bluest  sky, 

Afield  is  the  rain  of  glittering  grain, 
The  new  mown  hay  in  swathes  doth  lay, 

In  the  perfumed  heat  of  Summer  sweet. 

The  leaden  grey  of  the  closing  day, 

The  swirling  leaves  down  dropped  from  the  trees 
And  taken  in  trust  by  the  eddying  gust, 

Proclaiming  all — 'Tis  Fall. 

The  hard  bright  light  on  the  glittering  white 
Of  the  fields  of  snow  in  its  ghostly  glow, 

And  the  whistling  wind  as  it  hurrys  to  find 
A  place  less  drear — Winter's  here. 


TEMPORA  MUTANTUR 

In  days  of  old,  tiny  Love 

Wore  only  bow  and  arrow, 
But  now  he  wears  a  suit  of  tweed 

And  patent  leathers  narrow. 

In  those  good  days,  one  died  of  love, 
An  arrow  through  the  heart ; 

But  now  a  bargain's  coolly  made 
In  the  matrimonial  mart. 

The  passion  too  has  sadly  changed. 

Of  old,  'twas  love  of  creature, 
While  now,  alas,  the  love  of  gold, 

Has  grown  Love's  strongest  feature. 


HOPE 

The  rain  doth  fall, 
The  leaves  go  swirling  earthward, 
And  the  sky  is  dull  and  grey 

O'er  all. 

The  flowers  are  dead, 
The  brook  hastes  onward  to  the  river, 
Thence  cold  and  dark  flows  to  the  sea, 

Its  bed. 

Strong  winds  cold, 
Blow  o'er  all  the  landscape, 
The  year  near  run  its  'lotted  space, 

Is  old. 

But  Spring  vernal 

Will  come  again  through  all  the  land, 
Darkness  to  light  will  turn,  and  death  to 

Life  eternal. 


TANTALUS 

Lips  all  hung  \vith  kisses, 

Eyes  of  summer  blue, 
Hair  of  spun  thread  golden, 

Heart  most  truly  true. 

Not  for  me  the  lips  kiss  laden, 
Nor  a  glance  from  the  eyes  so  blue, 

No  thought  for  my  poor  heart  broken, 
In  her  heart  so  truly  true. 


KATE 

0  bonny  Kate,  O  winsome  Kate, 
You  wile  my  heart  from  me, 

1  tarry  'neath  your  lattice  late 
To  win  one  glance  from  thee. 

And  then  O  Kate,  O  fairest  Kate, 
Cross  curtain  close  there  flits  your  shade, 

And  I  with  naught  for  tarrying  late, 
Go  home  to  dream  of  thee  fair  maid. 


A  ROSE  IN  A  FLORIST'S  WINDOW 

Outside,  the  frost,  and  biting  air, 

The  snow  clouds  blown  by  the  icy  wind, 

Within,  warm  sheltered  the  blossom  fair, 
A  great  rose,  in  dewy  leaves  entwined. 

Oh  !  foolish  rose,  rest  sweet  in  your  nest, 
Nor  long  for  the  snow  through  your  window 

gleaming, 

'Twere  death  to  you  to  lie  on  its  breast, 
Though  it  dance  in  the  wind  in  innocent 
seeming. 


WITH   A  TEA  CUP 

I  pray  you  fairest  Phyllis 

Accept  this  cup  for  tea, 
And  in  its  depths  oh!  may  you  drown 

All  woes  Fate  sends  to  thee. 

And  when  from  o'er  its  gilded  rim 

You  sip  the  fragrant  tea, 
I  pray  you  have  one  pleasant  thought 

Of  him  who  gave  it  thee. 


DIANE 

She  steps  sedately, 

This  maid  so  stately, 
A  look  intense  and  earnest  on  her  face 
Her  bow  and  arrows  slung  to  join  the  chase. 

'Tis  Diane  tall  and  fair, 

This  maid  most  rare. 


She  steps  sedately, 

'Tis  "good  form "  lately, 

Her  gown  is  silk  and  velvet  trimmed  with  lace, 
In  slippers  Louis  Quinze  she  runs  her  pace. 

'Tis  Diane  of  to-day, 

So  changed  her  way. 


BABY  MARIAN 

Dainty  little  Marian, 
Bluest  eyes,  and  rosy  lips, 

How  gaily  does  she  run  about, 
Amongst  the  clover  tips. 

See  how  the  scented  blossoms 
Pour  out  their  perfume  sweet, 

And  bend  in  happy  sacrifice, 
Beneath  the  baby  feet. 

The  daisies  nod  beside  her, 
And  the  birds  sing  close  at  hand, 

For  not  a  baby  fairer 
Dwells  in  blue  birds'  land. 

Blessings  little  sweetheart, 
Upon  your  winsome  ways, 

May  life  for  you  be  sunshine, 
And  blossoms,  all  your  days. 


BIEN  CHAUSSEE 

Sing  I  shoes  of  all  the  ages, 

To  charm  the  gods  and  win  the  sages- 

Alas  !  to  work  such  havoc  shocking,. 
A  dainty  shoe  with  glimpse  of  stocking. 

Fair  Hypatia's  sandals  slender, 
Classic  grace  to  footsteps  lend  her. 

Beebee's  tiny  sabots  clatter, 
Keeping  time  with  merry  chatter, 

Or  Louis  Quinze  of  modern  flirt, 
Peeping  forth  'neath  lace  frilled  skirt. 

Hypatia,  Beebee,  Gretchen,  all, 
Mabel,  Prudence,  Diane  tall. 


38  BIEN  CHAUSSEE 

Bien  Chaussee  in  fashion's  mart, 
No  comfort  'tis  to  heal  the  smart. 

Sing  I  shoes,  of  all  the  ages, 

To  charm  the  gods  and  win  the  sages. 

And  work  the  ruin  of  modern  man, 

As  naught  but  shoes  and  stockings  can. 


DREAMING 

In  a  hammock  light  and  low, 
Swung  where  breezes  softly  blow, 
And  the  shadows  come  and  go, 

I  lounge  and  dream  away  the  hours, 
Soothed  by  perfume  of  the  flowers, 
Showered  from  rose  vines'  arching  bowers. 

And  my  heart  in  fancy  free 
Wings  its  glad  way  unto  thee, 
O'er  green  land  and  rolling  sea. 

And  I  fain  would  follow  fast, 

To  find  with  thee  sweet  rest  at  last 

In  some  fair  land,  all  sorrow  past. 


BLOSSOM  TIME 

Pink  sweet  rose, 

Flower  o'  the  vine, 
Petals  showering  in  fragrant  rhyme, 
With  the  bird's  sweet  notes  of  blossom  time, 

Glad  sweet  rose, 

Flower  o'  the  vine. 

Mild  soft  zephyr, 

Child  o'  the  wind, 

Messenger  sweet  from  a  warmer  clime, 
From  land  of  jessamine  and  flowering  lime, 

Caressing  zephyr, 

Child  o'  the  wind. 


BLOSSOM  TIME 


Come,  sweet  rose, 

Come,  zephyr  mild, 

The  vine's  fair  flower, 
And  the  south  wind's  child, 

Come  dance  in  the  sunshine  on  green  sward  clear, 
For  summer  and  blossom  time  are  here. 


REQUIESCAT 

Spring's  but  a  memory  dear, 
Summer  was  yesterday, 

Autumn's  sky  above  is  clear, 
And  Winter  seems  far  away. 

Youth's  but  a  memory  dear, 
Manhood  was  yesterday, 

Old  Age  with  its  trembling  fear 
Of  Death  still  far  away. 

But  the  sky  that  was  clear, 
And  the  memory  dear, 

And  the  Summer  of  yesterday- 
Oh  !  alas  for  them  all, 
For  Death  with  its  pall 

Brings  Winter  to  them  to-day. 


LENTEN   BELLS 

The  Lenten  bells  are  calling, 
From  turret  and  from  tower, 

To  step  from  out  the  hurry 
And  spend  a  quiet  hour. 

Their  melody  is  stealing 

Athwart  the  city's  din 
As  the  voice  in  mercy  calling, 

"  Go  pure,  and  no  more  sin." 

A  benediction  bearing, 

Like  breath  of  evening  prayer, 
A  soothing  of  our  sorrow 

And  lightening  of  our  care. 


LENTEN  BELLS 


A  mercy  that  is  falling 

Alike  on  rich  and  poor, 
Alike  for  saint  and  sinner 

It  doth  fore'er  endure. 

And  through  their  music  showering 
Comes  blessing  full  and  free  ; 

Like  hand  on  weary  forehead, 
It  falls  on  thee  and  me. 


ALL  THE  YEAR 

"  In  the  Spring  a  young  man's  fancy," 

So  the  sweetest  poet  sings, 
Lightly  turns  to  thought  of  loved  one, 

And  nature  all  her  joy  bells  rings. 

Then  the  summer  blooms,  and  sunshine 
Floods  the  days  of  gladsome  weather, 

And  by  mountain  and  by  seaside 
Men  and  maids  join  hands  together. 

'Neath  the  fruit  hung  vine  of  autumn 
Diane  her  true  love  doth  find, 

As  the  year  creeps  slowly  homeward, 
Leaving  all  but  love  behind, 

Last,  the  winter,  draped  in  frost  work, 
With  the  sky  above  so  clear, 

E'en  the  snow  cannot  chill  Cupid, 
And  Love  lives  through  all  the  year. 


MABEL'S  MUFF 

Cupid,  one  cold  winter's  day, 

Well  punished  by  the  icy  blast 

For  all  his  sins  in  summer  past, 
Wandered  shivering  on  his  way. 

"  Alack  !  "  he  cried,  in  chattering  tone, 
"  This  cruel  Boreas  has  me  fast ; 
'Tis  too  much  pain  for  sins  all  past, 

Sure  I  must  die  here  all  alone." 

Hope  almost  gone,  he  chanced  to  spy 

Mabel  coming  with  her  muff. 

"Ha,  ha  !  a  refuge  here  from  Boreas  rough- 
A  shelter  found  ;  I  need  not  die. '' 


MABEL'S  MUFF 


His  wings  he  spread  and  quick  did  fly 

Into  the  pretty  silk-lined  muff  ; 

"Ah,  this  is  warm,  aye,  warm  enough 
Next  clasp-ed  hands  to  snugly  lie." 

But  warmth  made  clear  young  mischief's  head, 
(For  warm  it  was,  and  warmer  grew, 
Till  Cupid,  who,  with  cold  was  blue, 

With  heat  turned  rosy  red.) 

Thought  he,  p'raps  Mabel  tripping  I  may  catch, 
As  plans  and  schemes  went  through  his  brain. 
Said  he,  "  I'll  feel  these  hands  again." 

"  Ho,  ho  !"  he  cries,  "  her  hands  don't  match." 

And  true  it  was  that  both  were  right — 
(Cupid  'tween  the  two  had  lain, 
Till  now  he  almost  cried  with  pain) 

The  large  one  held  the  small  so  tight. 


MABEL'S  MUFF 


He  wriggled  hard,  till  cleared  his  bands, 
And  gladly  left  the  sheltering  muff. 
Said  he,  "I'd  rather  brave  old  Boreas  rough 

Than  burn  in  lover's  clasp-ed  hands  " 

ENVOI 

And  Mabel  sweet,  with  tender  swain, 
With  hands  close  clasped  in  silk-lined  muff, 
Where  warm  it  was,  just  warm  enough, 

Strolled  slow  away  down  lover's  lane. 


SELENA 

The  quaint  old-time  name 

Quite  suits  you,  dear, 
As  do  your  great  eyes, 

Dangerous  blue  and  clear. 

No  rush  nor  hurry  doth 

Your  movement  fret : 
I  think  you'd  dance  right 

Well  the  stately  minuet. 

In  some  old-fashioned  garden 
Sure  you  bloomed,  sweet  maid, 

Walled  in  by  fragrant  hedge, 
Shielded  by  odorous  shade. 


SELENA 

Companioned  by  heliotrope's  rich  perfume 
And  dainty  mignonette's  most  subtle  bloom, 
And  all  the  sweet  old  flowers  that  memory 

pictures  clear — 
Happy  they,  to  bloom  beside  you,  dear. 


A  SUMMER  FANCY 

In  a  hammock,  swinging  low, 
Just  across  the  way,  you  know, 
Dainty  gown  of  rosy  pink, 
Slippers  Louis  Quinze,  I  think, 
Maddening  mass  of  golden  hair, 
Rounded  arm  so  white  and  fair, 
Rose  leaves  scattei'ed  on  the  ground, 
Rose-perfumed  the  air  around. 
And  this  picture  'neath  the  trees, 
Gently  swayed  by  boldest  breeze, 
In  a  hammock  swinging  low, 
Is  just  across  the  way,  you  know. 

From  my  window,  bending  low, 
Longing  glances  do  I  throw 
To  where  the  trees  bend  branches  fair- 
Sure  a  hammock  should  swing  there, 


A  SUMMER  FANCY 


And  the  leaves  in  freshest  green, 
With  sunlight  touched  to  golden  sheen 
Rose  leaves  scattered  on  the  ground, 
Rose-perfumed  the  air  around. 
'Tis  a  picture,  with  the  trees 
Gently  swaying  in  the  breeze, 
But  there  is  no  hammock  low 
Holding  maiden  fair,  you  know. 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  WIND 

What  is  the  anthem  the  Northwind  sings, 

As  the  blossoming  boughs  it  tosses  and  flings  ? 

It  is  but  a  song  of  the  ages  ago  ; 

Blow  where  ye  list,  oh  Northwind,  blow. 

The  song  of  life  from  the  death  that  seems, 
The  waking  from  sleep  that  hath  no  dreams, 
As  the  green  earth  from  the  snow  shroud  o'er  it 

thrown, 
So  shall  the  soul  of  man  come  to  its  own. 

As  the  blossom  that's  locked  for  a  time  in  the  tree, 
And  the  brook  one  time  fettered  now  dashes  free, 
So  the  spirit,  eternal  life,  surely  will  find, 
And  this  is  the  promise  that's  sung  by  the  wind. 


FOOT  NOTES 

By  Christmas  fire,  sit  I  dreaming, 
Watching  Mabel  in  its  light  ; 

Brighter  are  her  dark  eyes  gleaming, 
Than  the  glowing  anthracite. 

Asks  me  now  in  voice  caressing, 

If  I  think  to-morrow  morn, 
It  would  not  be  most  distressing 

To  find  her  stocking  all  forlorn  ? 

Then  my  glance  falls  to  the  fender, 
Where  rest  dainty  slippered  feet, 

And  my  voice  must  needs  grow  tender, 
As  I  say,  "Oh  !  maid  most  sweet, 

Santa  Claus  may  bring  you  treasure, 
Rarest  gems,  or  silks,  or  gold, 

Naught  as  fine  as  now  its  measure, 
Can  your  silken  stocking  hold." 


TRUTH 

'Tis  a  fancy  quaint  and  olden, 
Truth  lies  deep  within  a  well ; 

But  honest  hands  its  secret  golden, 
Can  induce  the  deeps  to  tell. 

List  my  fancy,  not  so  olden, 
Truth  lies  in  my  true  love's  eyes, 

And  lover's  heart  the  secret  golden 
Can  hear  told  in  her  sweet  sighs. 


Go,  little  glove,  to  her  I  love  ; 

To  guard  her  hand  thy  task, 
Oh  were  so  sweet  a  duty  mine, 

No  greater  boon  I'd  ask. 

With  soft  caress  her  fingers  press, 

But  be  not  over  bold, 
And  thus  the  hand  I  may  but  touch, 

I'll  by  thy  proxy,  hold. 


THE  GOLDEN   RULE 

"  Sweetheart  knowest  the  Golden  Rule 
Taught  at  school  ? 
So  !     I  give  you  kisses  three, 
That  is  just  what  seems  to  me 
The  Golden  Rule." 

"  Thus  I  unto  others  do 
(As  done  to  you), 
As  I'd  have  them  do  to  me  ; 
So  you  owe  me  kisses  three 
Is  that  true?" 


S8  THE  GOLDEN  RULE 

But  this  saucy  sweetheart,  she 
Laughs  at  me, 

Says,  "  that's  but  the  rule  of  three 
As  that  rule  was  taught  to  me 
When  at  school." 

Leaning  o'er  my  easy  chair, 
This  maiden  fair, 
Gives  me  then  of  kisses  four 
And  tells  me  "  there  are  plenty  more, 
That's  her  rule. 


MY   FLORIST'S  BILL 

A  bill  from  my  florist 

Most  woeful  to  see  ; 
A  record  of  follies 

Committed  by  me. 

The  items  that  stare 

Seem  to  grin  in  wild  glee, 

And  shout  dollars  and  cents 
In  derision  of  me. 

I  sit  and  gaze  sadly 

At  columns  so  long, 
While  through  my  brain  madly, 

Repentant  thoughts  throng. 


60  MY  FLORISTS  BILL 

There  are  baskets  for  Natalie, 
Violets  for  Beebee, 

And  many  an  item 

Of  ' '  one  boutonniere  ? ' ' 

For  "  Hysteria  "  roses, 
That  cost  a  mad  sum  ; 

To  no  one  could  roses 
More  fittingly  come. 

And  then  again,  roses, 
And  roses  once  more, 

I  ordered  them  left 
Each  day  at  a  door. 

A  door  I  gazed  on 
As  the  shrine  of  a  saint — 

So  she  was,  behind  footlights, 
With  powder  and  paint. 


MY  FLORIST'S  BILL 


There  are  bunches  of  buds 

For  the  sweet  "  debutantes," 
The  price  a  man  pays 

For  a  possible  dance. 

Great  creamy  lilies 

And  a  jar  of  palms,  too, 
Sent  over  to  Boston 

To  sweet  Cousin  Prue. 

And  then  every  week 

One  virtue  in  record  so  drear, 
Box  of  old-fashioned  flowers 

To  "  Madame  ma  mere. " 

I  muse  on  the  list  of  follies  so  many, 

And  vow  by  economy  now  to  atone 
For  the  dollars  that  sadly  I'll  pay  on  the  morrow 

For  the  one  time  fair  flowers  now  faded  and  gone. 


STAR  GAZING 

'  Twas  the  very  last  crush  of  the  season, 
And  gorgeous  as  such  affairs  are. 

Majorie  and  I  had  wandered 
To  the  lawn  to  look  up  at  a  star  ; 

At  least  Majorie  gazed  at  the  star, 
And  wondered  just  what  it  might  be, 

But  I  could  only  gaze  on  Majorie — 
The  brightest  of  all  stars  to  me. 

Then  speaks  the  radiant  beauty, 
With  dreamy  eyes  fixed  afar — 

I  wonder,  Jack,  are  there  people 
At  all  like  us  on  that  star  ? 


STAR  GAZING  63 


Are  there  girls  who  have  waited  a  season, 
With  a  dear,  clumsy  fellow  near, 

Just  dying  to  have  him  "  say  something," 
And  he  just  stupid  with  fear  ? 

And  then,  however  it  happened 

I  never  could  clearly  tell, 
But  certain  it  is  I  "  said  something," 

And  into  my  arms  there  fell — 

Not  a  star  from  the  heaven  above  me, 
But  Majorie,  gem  without  flaw, 

As  she  whispers,  "  Do  you  know,  Jack, 
I  really  don't  care  a  straw 

For  the  very  impossible  people 
Who  Vv'ould  live  away  off  in  a  star. ' ' 


A  SUMMER  AFTERNOON 

The  hush  of  a  listening  silence 

Is  abroad  in  all  the  land, 
The  sun  falling  through  the  branches, 

Strews  gold  upon  either  hand. 

The  brook  is  soft  in  its  murmur, 

As  its  tale  of  true  love  is  told 
To  the  daisies  that  nod  'gainst  the  grasses, 

Soft  robed  in  their  white  and  gold. 

The  trout  'neath  the  bank's  cool  shadow, 

So  still  in  the  crystal  stream, 
That  he  is  scarce  discovered 

By  the  sun's  most  searching  beam. 

And  the  day  as  it  creeps  to  its  closing, 

Drags  slow  its  laggard  feet, 
As  though  it  was  saddened  by  leaving 

A  scene  that  is  all  so  sweet. 


BENEDICTINE 

A  votre  sante,  fair  madame, 

In  Benedictine  golden  ; 
It  brings  to  mind  the  story  told 

Of  saints  in  times  so  olden. 

How  weary,  hungry,  lonely,  worn, 

A  monk  lay,  life  near  ended, 
A  sweet  saint  passing  heard  his  cry, 

And  quick  his  wants  attended. 

"  Give  me  to  drink,"  the  old  monk  moaned, 
The  saint  reached  grape  hung  vine  ; 

The  sweet  juice,  forced  in  amber  cup, 
Produced  the  magic  wine. 


66  BENEDICTINE 


The  sufferer  quick  the  chalice  drained, 
New  life  his  being  thrilled  ; 

The  saint  departing  left  the  cup, 
With  wine  'tis  ever  filled. 

And  so  the  Benedictines  claim 
This  nectar  Heaven  descended, 

'Tis  liquid  sunshine,  perfumed  rare, 
All  charms  in  it  are  blended. 

A  votre  sante,  fair  madame, 

In  Benedictine  golden  ; 
Its  perfume  rare,  and  your  fair  face, 

Bring  back  the  story  olden. 


ONLY  ONE   DAY 

You  gave  me  one  of  your  days,  dear  heart, 

All  for  my  very  own , 
I  remember  your  every  gesture, 

I  treasure  your  every  tone. 

I  can  see  you  now  as  you  sat,  dear, 

In  the  great  oak  easy  chair, 
While  a  zephyr  I  sorely  envied, 

Soft  lifted  a  curl  of  your  hair. 

I  remember  all  that  you  said  then, 
Your  words  so  strong  and  true  ; 

I  remember  the  room  where  we  sat,  dear, 
But  best  I  remember  you. 


It  was  but  one  of  your  days,  dear  heart, 

Generous  you  gave  it  to  me, 
You  cannot  take  it  away  now, 

It  is  mine — a  gift  from  thee. 

It  was  but  little  to  you,  I  know, 

Only  your  kindly  ways, 
But  it  must  last  me  through  all  the  years., 

That  one  short  perfect  day. 


GOLDEN  ROD 

The  glorious  clusters  of  golden  flower, 
Nodding  on  slender  stalks  of  green, 

Marking  the  summer's  sunset  hour, 
Lighting  the  shades  with  a  tawny  gleam. 

Clothing  the  fields  in  a  garment  fair, 

Bending  in  regal  beauty  fine  ; 
A  golden  sceptre,  of  fashion  rare, 

Modelled  of  gold  from  Flora's  mine. 

Rich  with  the  color  of  sunset's  glow, 
Fairest  flower  that  springs  from  the  sod  ; 

Its  fragrance  out  on  the  wind  doth  flow 
Generous,  beautiful  Golden  Rod. 


NOWADAYS 

She  is  a  nowadays  maiden, 

And  he  a  most  commonplace  swain  ; 
She,  with  her  beads  and  her  buckles, 

He,  with  his  bang  and  his  cane. 

She,  a  pretty  New  Yorker, 

He,  a  Columbia  man  ; 
Each  struggling  for  social  successes 

As  only  a  New  Yorker  can. 

But  they  met,  and  they  love,  and  are  wedded 
In  a  way  just  as  true  and  as  good 

As  if  they  were  Darby  and  Joan, 
And  in  old  time  simplicity  wooed. 


TO  

Dear  friend,  them  art  so  true, 

I'd  fain  my  actions  shape  to  be  like  you  ; 

If  you  may  not  be  ever  by  my  side, 

Your  spirit  be  my  conscience  and  my  guide. 

A  friend  thou  art  who  likest  not  my  faults, 

You'd  have  me  wage  'gainst  them  most  dead  assaults, 

I  struggle  on  nor  mind  the  pain  and  smart, 

Less  that  right  is  right,  than  just  to  win  thy  heart. 


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